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(transcript) Episode 99: "Michigan"
🕑 Added 2020-06-02 20:55:21 +0000 UTCHere comes the sun. Here comes the sun. Here comes the sun. It does not stop. Welcome to Night Vale.
To start today's show, I wanted to talk a bit about our indomitable radio intern, Kareem. He's become such a talented reporter working here at the station. Kareem told me this morning that he had written to his family back in his home state of Mitchigan to tell them about all the recent events he's reported on: like the five-headed dragons, and the Strangers led by that horrible beagle, and the reopening of the laser tag center at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex.
They must be really proud of you, Kareem, and all the great work you do, the fantastic stories you've gotten to cover here at your internship. Thank you for your good work.
And now an update.
Many of you have written in with your concerns over Old Woman Josie. Well, good news, listeners. After suffering a broken hip and a series of infections that kept her bed-ridden most of that time, she is feeling much better. She still needs a cane and occasionally a wheelchair to alleviate bodily exhaustion, but she is out and about.
I got to see her last Tuesday at the Desert Flower for bowling league night. She hasn't been able to bowl in nearly a year, but she has not lost any of her skills. She came with her many friends named Erika who claim to be angels. She bowled a perfect score, cane and all. Her delivery did seem a bit weaker than usual and her friends often stood right behind her as she rolled the ball. The Erikas would hum and close their many eyes and lift their many arms slowly into the air, and Josie's ball would straighten out, pick up speed, and demolish all 10 pins.
The opposing team complained she was cheating, receiving help from angels, but that team was promptly arrested for acknowledging the angels' existence and had to forfeit.
Josie, being a good sport, protested their arrest and said the Erikas were indeed angels and that we should all be free to acknowledge them. No one wanted to arrest a debilitated old woman, so they left it alone.
I'm so glad my friend is feeling better. She looks quite a bit older than I remember, but I'm just happy she's back at the bowling alley.
Oh. Kareem is telling me I apparently didn't tell his whole story earlier. I thought we were just talking about what a good job he did, but I guess there's more. Ok then. Kareem says after he wrote his family, he did not receive back a letter of pride and congratulations. He got a letter that said "LIES!!!!" in all capital letters and several exclamation marks.
It continued: "You are a liar. You are a liar, and we don’t understand why you are doing this to us.”
"Please do not write us again. You are an impostor" It is then signed "Ayeesha."
Kareem tells me that this is indeed his mother's handwriting and that is her name.
I told him that parents don't always communicate their love exactly how we would like. Radio is not a lucrative business. Maybe she is just expressing motherly concerns about his career choice and well-being.
He says she's always been so loving and supportive, so my explanation makes no sense.
Part of an internship is learning to receive feedback, Kareem. Well, thanks for the whole story.
And now an update on the dragons.
After last month's accidental murder of one of Hiram McDaniels' five heads, Hadassah McDaniels (Hiram's sister), her lawyer Miriam, and several other dragons from whatever world they came from have taken up, hopefully temporary, residence in Night Vale, claiming they will not leave until they get retribution, by which, I’m hoping they just meant “a heartfelt apology.”
No one has seen or heard from Hiram since the tragedy.
Hadassah dug a cave beneath the Ralphs where all of the dragons are now living. Weekday shift manager Charlie Bair said the heat of the dragons' cumulative breath, even underground, has ruined their produce selection. Most of the greens have wilted. "The whole store smells like onions now," he said.
Bair added: "To be fair, the dragons have been coming up to shop for groceries, so I don't want to complain about new business. But they don't like our selection of meats and have been eating a few of our regular customers. We can't have that."
"Or, I guess we can," he said. "As long as they pay for whatever food they take. Which they've been good about. So..."
And then he rattled the loose change in both pockets and lit a cigarette with just his mind.
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And now... *sigh*
I thought I was just going to do a quick spotlight on a good intern to start the show, but Kareem is nudging me again, listeners. Apparently I left some details out of his story.
Not everything needs to be a 100% accurate account of your own personal history, Kareem. This is a radio show, not Patrick Rothfuss's bestselling memoir The Name of the Wind. Your demand for details makes me look bad.
(Listeners, Kareem's really focused on correcting every little fact, which makes him a good reporter, but also kind of a snitch.)
So to start, it seems I've been mispronouncing Kareem's home state of Mitchigin. How do you say it, Kareem?
[beats between each, as he's listening to Kareem off-mic - think "Imaginary Friend is Not Funny]
Mitchigin.
Right. That's what I'm saying. Mitchigin.
Mithhchigan.
Mishtagin.
[to self]: mitchsagin, mithshagin...
Sorry. Kareem, I just can't hear the nuances of your regional accent.
The point is, listeners, Kareem said that he had sent a second letter home to his family asking if everything was okay and if they were happy with his career and how he is living his life. He just wanted to make them proud.
He received another letter back in his mother's handwriting. The letter read: "My son Kareem is in my home. I am looking at him right now. He is tall. He has long, black hair and green eyes. He is a beautiful and honest and hardworking boy. He has a birthmark on his right hand, shaped like a salamander. This is not you. You are not this person."
The letter continued: "Kareem is in college studying broadcast journalism. He is not you. I do not know you. Who are you? Why are you pretending to be my son? We cannot find any record of a town called Night Vale anywhere. Please stop writing me, whoever you are." And then it is signed Ayeesha.
Kareem, you are tall with long black hair and green eyes. You have a birthmark on your right hand. It’s shaped more like a lizard though, so maybe you had the wrong house? Who knows. Just one of those things, I guess.
Anyway, thanks for the story, Kareem!
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And now an update on our schools.
The enormous Glow Cloud (all hail) which serves as president of the Night Vale school board called for an increase in education funding to support the influx of new students. After the annexation of neighboring town Desert Bluffs, as well as the new five headed dragon kids that arrived with the five headed dragon delegation, Night Vale schools desperately need more teachers and classrooms, not to mention additional fireproofing.
The Glow Cloud (all praise the mighty cloud) delivered this message via press release scrawled in thick paint across several dead animals which it dropped from its great translucent body above town. It took reporters several hours to place each of the animals in the correct order to make sense of the press release, but they think they got it.
Mayor Dana Cardinal, and Sheriff Sam sent out their own press releases claiming a lack of available funding for the schools. The mayor said she will look into it but does not want to raise taxes. The Sheriff simply growled and fired a pistol into a target dummy shaped like a dragon. The City Council, minus newest member Tamika Flynn, shrieked and then left on a beach vacation, saying they needed an increase in sunlight and tropical drinks, and that so what if sometimes they don’t call, it doesn’t mean that they aren’t into a relationship, just that sometimes they are busy. Here at the radio studio, our broken-hearted Station Management cried quietly in their office, which was a truly off-putting and strange sound.
The Glow Cloud (we are not worthy to rub our faces in the mud before its beneficent presence, oh maker and unmaker of all things) indicated that it would continue to bring up this issue at school board meetings.
More on this story as it develops.
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Oh god, Kareem. Really?
Kareem is now telling me that he called his parents to talk to them about the letters they sent to him. But a familiar voice answered the phone. It was not his father Rahim, nor his brother Aamir. It was him. Kareem answered his own phone call.
Kareem tried to explain who he was to himself, but the other Kareem said that it couldn’t be true. That there was only one him, and he was it.
Kareem asked to speak with his mother, but Kareem said "I don't know YOUR mother. I only know MY mother." And hung up.
Kareem said he wanted to go home to see his family. I told him he might be confused by it but to take a close look at a map of the United States. He did and was dismayed to find there was no Minchigin (Minshgan? I think that's it.). He said his home state should be right between Oh-Hee-O and Canada and that it's shaped like a mitten. I said he's thinking of Maine, which looks like a mitten that's been wadded up and you're looking at it from, like, a side angle.
He said the US Map looks correct when he stares at the whole thing, but when he looks closely at where Mitchigan should be, it's not there.
He's now pacing about in the cubicle area, pulling at his hair, sweating. I'm worried about him. He's never quite behaved like this before. I'm gonna tell him to go back home. Visit his family. Take some time off work.
While I do that, here is today's weather.
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WEATHER
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Kareem is back already. Said he spent the last two weeks at home. I told him he'd only been gone about 5 minutes, long enough to report the weather. But he pointed to the calendar, and I'll be darned, he's right. It's been two weeks. Huh. That weather report took way longer than I thought.
Kareem said he took a flight to Grand Rapids, but when he landed he was back in Night Vale. He tried several flights, even some to the cities of Detroit and Chicago (neither of which I've ever heard of), hoping to just catch a bus or something from there, but all flights landed back at the Night Vale airport.
Kareem's a good intern, but not very knowledgeable of how air travel works. The whole point is the joy of flying, not the destination. No one likes going places, they just like the comfort of flying. Airlines send you in the air for a few hours and serve you good food while you relax, then they take you home.
The airport having failed him, Kareem got in his car and drove to Minchican. He kept getting lost and ending back up where he started, but after days of trying, he finally arrived. He found his family was there, joyfully surprised to see him. He told them about the letters he sent and the ones he received. He was crying. They said they hadn't heard from him in ages and were starting to get worried. They didn't receive or write any letters.
He asked if he was already there. Was I home this whole time, he asked his mother. She just hugged him and said "you're here now." He asked Aamir, was I here? Did you see me here while I was gone? Aamir said, "you'll always be here, Kareem."
He asked his father "are dragons real? are there other worlds? is satan a beagle puppy?" His father laughed and said "you were always the funny one."
They embraced. Kareem stayed for a few days. They had dinners together and watched movies. Kareem tried to talk about his time in Night Vale, but found he was not able to remember any of it. He eventually could not even remember the name of this town he'd been living in for 2 years. After a while, he forgot that he had ever been anywhere else at all.
He had forgotten Night Vale and its people in his mind, but not in his body. He could feel he was supposed to be someplace else. He didn’t want to be anywhere else, but it didn’t feel like it was his decision.
He fought this feeling for days. Finally, one day, his father asked if he wanted to go see a University of Mitchigan football game. Rahim said they’re a talented team this year. It's been nearly 20 years since they won a title. Kareem said he thought they won a championship two years ago with someone named Sandero at quarterback. His father said that wasn't possible. The team was terrible two years ago.
Kareem had some errands to run, so he told his family he would meet them at the game. He got in his car, fully intending to see them in a less than an hour. But instead he drove and drove, not knowing to where. And after several days with no map or destination, he arrived back in Night Vale, and he remembered his life here again.
He called his mother when he got home to tell her he was safe, but she only screamed into the phone saying: "No! No! You're here. I'm looking right at you. Kareem you're here in my home. You’re right here in my home. How are you calling me?"
I love our internship program. Kareem has become an excellent reporter and editor. Maybe one day he will replace me here at this station. Who knows?
But beyond professional development, I want our interns to learn the bigger lessons of life and love and family and death. Kareem hasn't thought much about aging, I'm sure. But as we get older, as we leave home, we form for ourselves an independent identity, no longer impressed upon by families. We take the last shape they crafted - a partially-chiseled stone sculpture - and we are left to try to finish the work ourselves. Hopefully they have provided good tools, hopefully the world teaches us how to better use them. And for the rest of our lives we are gently hammering away at the curves and crevices of the great masterpieces that are our lives.
Sometimes, as we work, we become less recognizable to the families who first shaped us. They critique the craftsmanship, the artistic direction. They worry too much has been cut away, or that, quote, "those arms just don't look proportional." In some cases, they no longer recognize us for the adults we are. Family expectations are high, but underneath it all is love and worry and a knowledge that you will do right for yourself. Your family may not trust that knowledge, but they know they have to try.
Kareem is back at his desk staring at a map of the US. He doesn't look fearful or worried anymore. He looks like a young man, a grown man but still a young man, with a purpose. He is a journalist, doing a journalist's job, to seek truths, to understand the world.
I'm proud of him. [off mic] I'm proud of you Kareem!
He's giving a thumbs up. [off mic] Let's talk about your editing though. That weather report was way too long. Like 5 minutes max, okay?
Stay tuned next for the slow, low sounds of enormous plates shifting deep below us.
Listeners, I'll be taking off work in a couple weeks to... well just to take some time off, but we'll be in touch again in the new year. As always, good night, Night Vale. Good night.
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PROVERB: A four-star hotel will put mints on your pillow, whereas a five-star hotel will put candy bars in your butt.
